Dear Owner,

You zipped me into a cell, sealed away from the green, soft, cut grass that is my home. The dark navy-blue leather that was smooth like a baby’s bottom is cracked from use. The golden Puma lion located on my side roars for its owner’s attention. My grey and white metallic markings down my body are hidden by grass stains that mark the energy and power I gave to you in order to pass the ball, side-step the defender, or kick pass the goalie. No longer crisp, my tattered shoe laces are bent permanently by a brown, thick, sticky substance. On the bottom, green patches and dried dirt cling to my rubber cleats waiting to be beat out on the cement. Worn in and molded to the shape and size of your foot, I look old and hideous. Smelling of sweat, I cry out for foot deodorizer! Let me breathe! Take me out to play… so I can return to my glory days!
Sincerely,
Miserable Soccer Cleats